


Cultured Memories

by barbex



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 19:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbex/pseuds/barbex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shavik smut - a neglected genre. The last prothean on a ship full of primitives, superior and alone. He has needs and he finds out that there may be more to the primitives than he had thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cultured Memories

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for Spyke1985, who said that there is way too little Shavik around here.  
>    
> So Javik porn, no problem. But I don't know what wicked fairy has cursed me that simple porn always has to turn in some kind of backstory laden romance but it happened again. So yeah, smut and romance and made up prothean words.
> 
> Spyke1985, as the resident expert on all things smut and prose, has deemed this song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izqSWCh5DKY as the necessary soundtrack for this story. It is recommended that you follow this advice.

 

* * *

Primitives. They were all primitives. The empire would have laughed at them, taken them in and formed them to be useful.

Javik had woken up in world that did not appreciate him. He was a hero, the last of his race, with the knowledge of the reapers. They should consult him, praise him. But the Commander hardly ever took him along; instead she favored the turian and the human they called Vega. She did not even have biotics at her disposal that way, solely relying on weapons. Primitive.

But he had to admit that she got results. She fought the reapers, united the species and even fought the human traitors of Cerberus. And she was successful. Unlike the protheans, who had fought this war for generations, losing world after world, she managed to push the reapers back. She was so tenacious in her fight that even the reapers knew her by name.

And she was just a primitive, barely out of the caves that her ancestors had lived in. Fragile, soft skinned and small.

He could not understand how she did it.

But that was not his main problem now. Right now, as he stood in front of his water table, soaking his hands to keep them soft and clean, something else was bothering him. He had been in stasis for 50,000 years and his body just recently started to feel normal again. Unfortunately with normalcy came something else that hounded him.

The _circabelja_ was rising in him, the need to mate.

But he was alone, the last of his kind, he had no acceptable way of finding release for the circabelja. Every prothean came into the circabelja at least twice a year and if he had been among his own kind, he would have found someone, anyone to find release. But on this ship of primitives, he was alone, desperately cursing his rising need.

To his utter embarrassment he had begun to think about the primitives to find release, especially the females. Javik had no objection against males, the battlefield had many times brought him together with another male in the circabelja. But if he had a choice, he would have liked a female.

He knew that the asari was interested, her fringe puffing up whenever she entered his room and her scent almost obscene. But she was still too naive, too clean. On this ship, only the Commander could possibly interest him. She was strong, powerful, despite being such a weak species. Maybe that made her even more interesting.

The last time he had seen her, she had come into his room, not even asking for permission to step into his aura and had scolded him. Him! She had demanded a change of behaviour from him, ordered him to be polite and respectful to the other primitives on the ship. It had taken all his willpower to not slam her into the wall with his biotics, demanding that she would bow for him and accept his superiority.

Only after she had left, had he realized that the picture in his mind of slamming her into the wall had been replaced by an entirely different kind of slam into the wall. His imagination, fueled by the rising intensity of the circabelja, provided him with a picture of the Commander presenting her naked skin to him, to give him access to her dalji. Suddenly the need rose in him, to touch again, to share again, just once after all this time to connect to a memory again.

He knew that it was futile, she could not even read his memories on her own, he had to push them to her. So primitive. And what would he get from her dalji? Memories of her eating and sleeping? As far as he could tell, that was all she ever did if she wasn’t running around on a battlefield. It would be a waste of his circabelja to connect with her.

His hands clenched under the water and he began to feel hot. The need was almost unbearable now, crawling over his skin, rushing inside of him like a storm. It was drowning out the world, singing to him the tune of his kind. He needed her, he needed to feel. It was not even about the memories, he did not need memories. He needed the release and it could only be her, only she was at least close to worthy of it.

The problem was that she did not like him. Her scent was pleasant but unaroused, her whole demeanor friendly but uninterested. She was the commanding officer and her behaviour was professional and reserved. The only time she seemed to be more relaxed was when she was alone with the turian and the quarian.

Another hot wave rushed through him and he let his forehead dip into the water. He was so distracted that he did not hear the door opening. He only realized that the Commander had come in when she was well within his aura, her presence invading his mind.

"Commander, now is not a good time," he growled at her, her scent engulfing him. She stood right behind him, so very close. He had noticed that humans apparently had a different range of personal space than protheans. At least the Commander tended to stand much closer to him than a prothean would.

"Why, Javik? Is something wrong?" the Commander asked, her voice perfectly neutral. It still aroused him, embarrassingly fast. She was so close, he could touch her if he would just hold out his hand.

"I would assume that you are not familiar with what we protheans call the circabelja, Commander."

"No, I don't think I am. Enlighten me." A smirk played around her lips and she leaned back, her hip cocked out to the side. Her hip was fascinating.

He turned to her, fighting the urge to grab her shoulders and rip off her clothing. Not all of it, he was not into it for the touch of skin, he just needed an entry. "I am a prothean and I have urges. Natural urges. This is called the circabelja, the mating phase."

The smirk on her face turned into a full grin. "Protheans go into heat?" She laughed out, rich and warm and she looked more beautiful than ever. "I wonder if Liara knows about that, I'm sure she would be happy to help you."

"The asari will not suffice," he spat out, leaning back against the water table, his hands clenching around the rim.

The smile disappeared from her face and was replaced by an angry glare. "Not suffice? Are you telling me she is not good enough for you?" she yelled at him, getting even closer. "Can you stop being an asshole for one fucking minute? Don't you dare assume that Liara is somehow beneath you, she has done more for me and this war than you could ever do!" Her anger coloured her aura in dark tendrils.

Her finger was pressed against the front of his armor, pushing him, daring him. How could she be so forward, so close and so... tenacious? She was provoking him, arousing him with her confidence. So small, so fragile; but she did not fear him. How dare she?

Javik tried to calm himself. The circabelja was screaming inside of him, demanding to take the female and honor her with his seed. If she stayed, he would not be able to control himself much longer.

"You have to leave, Commander."

"Do I now?" She had a smirk on her lips. So infuriating.

He stepped forward and roughly grabbed her shoulders. Unlike him she did not wear armor and she surely felt the grip of his hands. Her eyes narrowed at his aggressive behaviour but she did not step back.

Javik felt his frills vibrate as he growled at her. "If you don't leave, I will take you. The circabelja is getting too strong and you are an enticing female. In my cycle, my situation would have been obvious to everybody and I would already have a partner for the circabelja dima. But here..." He gathered all his willpower to step away from her, closing his eyes and blocking his senses.

He heard a small chuckle from her and it angered him that she did not take him seriously. "Commander, leave! I can not guarantee that I can control..."

"Javik." She took a step towards him and smiled at him. "In this cycle, we have this custom of asking a partner whether he or she is willing for... intimacy." She pressed her body against his armor and he suddenly noticed that her scent had changed. It was feral, animalistic. She smelled of pure sex.

"I cannot assure your safety, I am a prothean and you..."

"Don't you dare call me weak, prothean." Her voice was deeper, rougher and her scent got even stronger. "Just ask me, Javik."

The last rational part of his crazed brain managed to form the necessary words for the question she demanded and he did not even stumble over the fact that _he_ was asking _her_ , practically submitting to her.

"Commander, will you join with me to celebrate the circabelja dima?"

She stepped away from him. His growl got even louder, and the table behind him creaked under the strain of his clenching fists. He wanted to grab her by the throat and force her to submit to him. How dare she move away from him. But then he realized that she had stepped backwards to take off her suit. He jacket fell from her shoulders, leaving her in a sleeveless shirt.

He finally released the rim of his water table to let the pieces of his armor drop to the floor. When he had opened the front of his undersuit, he couldn't wait anymore. Hissing the now ancient words of his kind he roughly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards him.

"Will you...," her scent was almost unbearable, "...will you join with me?" he growled out, feeling his sanity slipping away.

She moved her mouth towards his frills and he instinctually shielded his mind, his dalji from her. But she did not touch him, only her breath caressed his frills.

"Yes."

He yelled out his claim in words she could not possibly understand, ripping her pants open with his hands. With his whole weight he slammed her against the wall, finally feeling her body. He still avoided her skin, he did not want to see her memories, but he touched her body through the thin fabric. Her muscles moved under his hands and that was all the warning he got before he was roughly thrown away from her.

She had pushed him!

His biotics flared up, a green ball of force flying towards her but she dodged it. He tried to catch her in a stasis field but she was too fast, too agile and his lust crazed mind was just too slow. Before he realized what had happened she pounced him, pushing him back towards the table, her hands suddenly on him, all over him, her naked hand touching him. He wanted to stop her but then her hand was on his penis, stroking him and he almost could not hold his mental shield up against her touch.

He groaned, his frills flaring wide. How wonderful it felt, how she stroked him, her strange, thin fingers enclosing his erection. How she increased the pressure until he whined and then caressed him again with a feather-like touch, coaxing sounds from him that he did not know he could make.

Again she increased the pressure and he could not wait anymore. He would come in her hand if he let her continue and that would not be right. This was his circabelja dima, after 50,000 years and he would not waste his seed.

He let his biotics enclose her, making her weightless. She stared at him angrily, fighting against the hold. With a wide grin he stepped into the field and roughly set her against the wall again. This time she would not get away from him.

He grabbed her arms, holding them up, his nails digging into her skin. His erection stood free, pointing at her and he held her up in the field at the right height.

"Brace yourself, Commander," he growled at her. Aligning himself with her entrance he caught her eye. There was no fear, no hesitation in her gaze.

She grinned at him, angling her hips towards him and when he entered her she pushed forward, taking him in in one quick push. Her head flew back, a rough moan coming from her. Javik could not believe how good she felt, how strong. He moved back and pushed back into her, his moan sounding just like hers.

Her mouth moved next to his head and she whispered, "Is that all, prothean?"

She was making fun of him!

He yelled out an ancient curse and slammed into her, sheathing himself in her vagina to the hilt. She screamed but it was a scream of pleasure that made him lose his mind. He pounded into her, expecting to her to stop him, but she never did. She clung to him, her soft breasts pressed against his chest, only thin fabric between them. He kept on thrusting, feeling her tunnel clench around him. She screamed loudly, contracting around his penis and her scent got even stronger.

She felt slicker around his member now, impossibly moist. Her gasps and moans rang in his ears, driving him on. He let the biotic field fall and was suddenly almost overwhelmed by her and the way she now moved against him. Her body following his movements, adapting to him and demanding all of his power.

She was clawing at him, scratching him through the fabric of his suit. He had to fight the urge to touch her, to share his dalji with her. His biotics flared up in irregular spikes and his green field mixed with her vibrant bright colored aura. She was beautiful and she looked him straight in the eyes.

"Javik."

He stilled. She looked at him with wide eyes, sweat making her skin shine.

"Yes?" he asked.

Her husky voice made him desire her even more. "More. Give me all of you."

A wild roar left him, words of his old language, screamed out like his ancestors had done on the planes of a planet long gone. He pushed into her, giving his life into every move. She took everything he had to give and gave him even more. Every snap of his hips was met by hers and answered even more forcefully.

He kept on going faster, the circabelja dima flooding his senses, pounding into her and she screamed again, tense and holding on so tight that it almost hurt. He could only assume that she had had another orgasm and as her head fell forward with a whimper she bit into his throat.

His own orgasm slammed through him like the force of a shockwave. The circabelja dima was finally fulfilled. As the last wave rolled through him and the last drops of his seed left him the unthinkable happened.

He dropped the shield to his dalji.

 

Unstoppable, her memories and emotions crashed into him, making him feel the retreating waves of ecstasy from her. Then he felt her fight, saw friends die in battle, the happiness she had felt among friends, the despair when one of them died.

He saw her sing when she was alone, songs of human history, beautiful and haunting. He saw a race die that had been made from his own kind, he saw a friend turn away and how it had pained her.

He saw the void of space and the fear she had felt this one time as she truly died. He saw a piano, destroyed in a fire, never to be played again.

He saw a white plated turian with love in his eyes thank her and shoot himself. He saw a friend die in the fire of an explosion, feeling her grief.

He saw a man hefting a medal on her uniform, and a fight against hordes of enemies.

And she was always singing, alone by herself. And the piano, she played sad tunes on it.

Then he saw her watch her family die, herself hiding, unable to help. And then he saw her mother, singing with her and her father playing the piano with her, teaching her. And he finally knew why she always sang alone.

The music was as beautiful as the songs she was singing with her mother.

He had thought that she was just a primitive, but he had been wrong. There was so much more.

 

Pulling himself back into the present, he gently sat her on the ground, holding her close to him as he sat down himself.

"I am sorry, Commander."

She chuckled. "I think you can at least call me Shepard now."

"Yes, I will, thank you. I need to apologize for reading your memories." He bowed his head toward her.

She turned and just looked at him questioningly.

He continued. "I should not have done that, I saw your life without your permission. That was not honorable of me."

She turned her head forward again and leaned back against his chest. "Ah, don't worry about it." A grin spread on her face. "Just think, when all of this is over you can write the most precise biography about my life. You will get rich!" The grin was still there but it only hung on her mouth.

Javik gently pushed her off and turned her so that he could face her. "You do not expect to survive this fight?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm a realist, Javik, I know how slim our chances are anyway. My survival is even more unlikely. "

He put his hand under her chin to make her look him in the eyes, not caring that he touched her skin again. "Don't call for death before he has found you, Shepard. You are alive now, live it."

A soft smile spread on her face. "Yes, maybe you're right. But that goes both ways. So tell me, how much have you lived, Javik, since you have woken up?"

He looked at her. "I have not. Not until this moment."

Her mouth was suddenly on his, caressing his lips softly. Pulling her close, he did not care that he touched her skin. With joy he let go of his shields and let her see into his dalji.

She kissed him again, her hands stroking his carapace. Slowly she removed his clothes and he removed hers. When he entered her again, it was not about the circabelja.

This time it was about life, hope and culture. And love.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Spyke185 for beta reading her own gift. This is how we do it!


End file.
